Home Coming
by Llamachick
Summary: Dean and Sam retire to Bobby's after successfully averting the apocalypse only to butt heads with the King of Hell who made the shack his home without them noticing. Can they get over their prejudices before somebody gets damned/ exercised? SLASH! Bobby/Crowley, Dean/Castiel and eventual Sam/Gabriel
1. Chapter 1

Summary: Dean and Sam retire to Bobby's after successfully averting the apocalypse only to butt heads with the King of Hell who made the shack his home without them noticing. Can they get over their prejudices before somebody gets damned/ exercised? SLASH!

Bobby/Crowley, Dean/Castiel and eventual Sam/Gabriel

/``````

It was a shotgun blast that jerked Bobby out of his nap he'd been enjoying in his lawn chair out back. Startled he only barely caught his knocked scotch glass, sloshing its contents over his weathered jeans. Cursing creatively he had already reflexively reached for his sawed-off when he heard muffled angry yelling from his front porch. He recognized those voices and paused, the boys were home.

Crowley's familiar voice bent in a shriek got him moving again. Two more shots had him sprinting.

/``````

Sam flinched barely out of the Impala when the first shot went off. A long pained whine escaped seemingly from nothing as black blood spilled on the hardened dirt ground. Sam gave Dean an alarmed and exasperated look as his brother reloaded. Dean's eyes were trained on an invisible enemy fearfully. Dread filled Sam's stomach.

"Sammy get back in the car!" Dean barked edging backwards toward his car.

"Hellhounds?" Sam guessed breathlessly.

"Hound. It came out of nowhere! BOBBY?"

"Clearly I was being generous when I called you _functioning_ morons!" Crowley said angrily, appearing suddenly out of the house and stepping to the wounded demon. "What inspired this act of cruelty against a puppy?" Dean leveled the gun at Crowley and cocked it. Crowley eyed the gun indignantly like the insult it was and bit out a sarcastic, "Really?"

"Crowley?" Sam said baffled. "What are you…"

"There are more now Sam. Two on his right, and fucking huge one coming from the left." Dean said urgently, gesturing with the barrel of his gun. "Where the fuck is Bobby, Crowley?"

"Do you have any idea who _I AM_!" The hellhounds feeling their master's rage reacted menacingly, hissing and snapping loudly at the hunters.

"DAMMIT, BOBBY?"

The adult hellhound attacked. BAM-BAM!

/```````

When Bobby arrived on the scene Sam and Dean were huddled yelling inside the Impala while it rocked off its wheels and large dents and tears bloomed impossibly across the driver side door and roof. Crowley was knelt unimpressed by the boys' plight, tending and muttering to a whining nothing. If Bobby didn't know better, this situation would look ridiculous.

"Call off your dogs, dammit Crowley." Crowley looked up to give Bobby a scowl. The elder hunter moved so he could see over Crowley's shoulder and the pool of blood. "They're idjits, but they don' deserve this."

"Savages more like." Crowley offered bitterly, accent thick. "And they do absolutely deserve it. I've decided. I'm going to let her hunt them personally should their souls become due again." He straightened stiffly, brushing the blood off his hands with black kerchief and glared at the car. "And they will!" He bellowed it like a threat, but it was pointless since the Winchesters were too preoccupied to notice.

"Crowley." Bobby growled warningly. The demon's eyes snapped to the hunter's and what he found there took the wind out of his sails. Despite himself Crowley let out a high whistle and the car stopped moving. Scampering feet fell silent beside the demon and he braced a large invisible animal's muzzle as a thoughtless affectionate action with his palm. Bobby gestured vaguely to where he guessed the wounded hound was with his sawed-off. "Anything we can do for it?"

"Nothing you can do. Wonder boy shot her in the head." Crowley snapped. "I'll have to take her back. Now." He dipped to gather the hound and was about to leave when he hesitated, back to the hunter. "We'll have to reschedule our appointment, Luv."

Bobby grunted and waved him off. Crowley sighed, and then was gone. The wind suddenly picked up and then there was no more noise from the hounds. They must have followed.

The Impala looked rough from where he was standing. The door was screwed in like someone tried to gut it with a concrete drill. The side view mirror was gone. The windshield had spider web cracks originating from a considerable dip in the hood. It looked like the metal was even melted a little. Dean was frustratedly failing to get the car door open and finally settled with climbing across and out the passenger door after he couldn't even kick it out.

"Bobby," Sam sounded traumatized and unsure. "We made it." Dean tripped out of the car with an 'umph' and cussed loudly.

"Welcome boys," Bobby said in a forced casual voice. "I gonna need a drink. Want one?" Sam nodded mutely. "Come on then." Sam trailed after, leaving Dean to moan over his wrecked car.

/``````````

The whole house felt different to Sam. It wasn't that there weren't books, loose papers and empty bottles everywhere, because there certainly were. It was more like things were straightened neatly, less dusty, and moved slightly in a way that opened up the shack and made it look bigger. Brighter. Someone vacuumed. It was disconcerting.

"What's that smell?" Sam asked, following Bobby into the kitchen. On the island table next to a stack of books there was a basket of ground up purple plant arranged purposefully around some broken white twigs. Sam sniffed. Lavender, coconut, and some other third thing he couldn't identify. It couldn't be.., "Potpourri?"

"'Demon potpourri'" with air quotes, "is what Crowley called it. Covers up the smell of demon magic. Keeps it from smelling like Yellow Stone in here." Bobby grabbed three beers out of the fridge and popped two open, handing one to Sam.

"Oh," was all Sam could say while trying to take this all in. He took the beer and rubbed his nose with his thumb idly. He watched Bobby busy himself in the kitchen thoughtfully. The old hunter was putting things away slowly, like he wasn't sure where everything went anymore. By the sink there were some raw ingredients laid out and a bowl of something white and fluffy that Bobby inspected warily. Bobby sniffed it and then frowned at it. Sam spied a piece of paper and an unopened large bottle of wine on the ground and stooped to grab them. It was a recipe hand scratched in red ink in a script he didn't recognize. Things were starting to fall into place.

"Here," Sam said passing the paper over.

Bobby squinted at it then snorted a laugh, "Pizza, o' course." Sam moved to put the bottle in the liquor cabinet under the sink, but Bobby stopped him when he eyed the label. "Keep that one separate." He took it gingerly and put it on the counter next to the sink. It looked like an expensive sleek alien on his counter, but Bobby didn't seem to notice or care. He then offered an arm to pull Sam to his feet.

Letting himself be helped up, Sam saw that the demon seal on the ceiling clearly was broken. "Okay Bobby," Sam said anxiously. "I think we need to talk."

"Damn fucking straight 'we need to talk!'" Dean barged in, the rusty front door swinging wildly in his wake. "What was 'his royal pain-in-the-ass hell-spawn majesty' doing here?"

Sam raised an eyebrow at him, "That one kinda got away from you didn't it?"

"Shut it Sam." Dean had to force his hands to unclench to receive the beer from Bobby. It was a visible effort. "What is this? 'Damnation Plantation?' You've got hell hounds climbing out of the woodwork! Last I checked that's not a normal 'let's stand around and drink beer casually in the kitchen situation!'" Despite himself Dean downed half the bottle in one go. "Fuck Bobby!"

"Would you calm down?" Sam sneered at his brother.

Dean glared at Sam affronted. "Would YOU calm down?"

"I am calm!"

Dean took a shuttering breath and refocused on the silent hunter who was looking at the recipe in his hand absently. "Did you make another deal Bobby? What's happened?"

"Look, I ain't been making deals." Bobby seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. "Things have just been a bit _different_ around here recently. It isn't anything I can't handle." At the stunned look on Dean's face he added hastily, "No one was hurt." Well, besides the hound, but he wisely kept that thought to himself.

"No one was- no one was HURT? Did you not see what that _thing_ did to my baby?" Dean put his hands on his head exasperatedly and zoned for a second. "Oh my fuck, my car... She makes it through the fucking apocalypse, but not through coming to Bobby's…"

"Oh, quit yer bitching. You can fix her up right here. She needed a new coat of paint last I saw anyway." Bobby took a swig, suddenly authoritative. "Weren't yah planning on staying anyhow?"

Sam risked a glance at the ceiling and looked downright uncomfortable. Dean just looked dazed.

"That's what I thought."

"But-" Bobby cut Sam off with a look.

"I'll explain more later… Now, do either of you Idjits know how to make a pizza?"

/```````````

tbc


	2. Chapter 2

The Impala was emptied of the Winchester's suitcases into Bobby's living room in a pile on the floor. Sam grabbed some extra hunting gear out of the trunk, feeling unprotected in these walls for the first time since he could remember. No answers from Bobby meant the boys were in hunter mode, but that didn't seem to bother the old hunter.

Dean seemed to be all about getting his wrecked car and Bobby off to the salvage yard. His expression told Sam that he intended to try to get more information over some oily male mechanics. The younger brother had no intention of following. Sam knew his forte was in the details, so he planned to stay behind and snoop.

"I'll finish dinner and catch up later." Sam said when he was asked if he was going to come along.

"Nerd," Dean muttered, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

That's how Sam found himself standing alone with the kitchen with the responsibility of decoding what he decided was Crowley's recipe and finishing the 'demon pizza.'

The 'demon pizza' that appeared to be vegetarian and low sodium and disarmingly normal.

To be honest Sam was getting a little excited at the prospect of eating something other than diner food, and the bitter suspicion of Crowley's ill intent faded a little as he resigned himself to the task of working the dough into the organic vegetable oil that he knew Bobby didn't buy. Sam set the oven to preheat and pulled a pan out of the cabinet to sauté the mushrooms, green peppers and onions and a pot to make tomato sauce. There was a line that underscored the tomato sauce instructions as an afterthought that Sam couldn't quite make out. He was chewing over the idea of going to ask Bobby when he heard someone clear their throat directly behind him, causing him to nearly throw the frying vegetables.

"Wha-?" Sam whipped around to see Castiel in all his usual ragged 'warrior of God' glory.

"Sam," Castiel croaked by way of greeting. The angel was looking at his hands like his host still felt awkward to be in and it offended him somehow. To Sam he looked like he'd just stepped off the battlefield and into the kitchen with not enough transition time in-between.

"God, Cas. I thought we were working on not sneaking up on people." Sam relaxed a little. This was the first time Sam had seen Castiel since the showdown between himself possessed by Lucifer and his half brother possessed by Michael. Castiel had done his part and almost died for it… and it had saved Sam's life. Sam honestly wasn't sure if he'd see the angel again after they succeed in the impossible task of stopping the other douchier angels, but found he was glad to see him. Sam felt more than a little indebted.

The angel looked at Sam like Sam was something he would never understand, "I made a noise before addressing you didn't I? I thought that would be sufficient." Sam scoffed unbelievingly. The angel looked around the kitchen warily, his eyes settling on the potpourri. "Where is Dean?"

Sam made a generalized gesture in the direction of where the salvage yard was, "Outback with Bobby. Fair warning: he's in a terrible mood."

Cas gave Sam a stiff nod.

Sam realized that unsurprisingly Cas wasn't here for him. He almost never was. Which made it very strange when the angel just stood there looking hard in the direction Sam indicated. This seemed to be a very 'angel' moment. "Cas?" The tall hunter looked where Cas was looking, at the very wooden, very opaque wall and then back to the angel. "You can't see him from here can you?"

Cas gave him that look again. "No Sam. I cannot see through walls." Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the stove to hide his embarrassed flush. He took the veggies off the heat and put a lid on the pan to steam.

"Well, what are you doing then?"

The angel considered Sam's back for a moment before answering cryptically, "Thinking."

Sam sighed and put the tomato sauce over the heat. "Okay." He looked at the recipe again for the next step. "Can you read this?" Castiel stepped to Sam's side and took the paper.

"It says 'Zinfandel, three cups.'" Castiel breathed in the smell of Sam's cooking and gave a small smile. "This smells quite enjoyable."

"You're welcome to try it when it's done." Sam smiled back at the smaller man happily surprised. "'Zinfandel', 'Zinfandel'… um," He chewed his lip trying to remember where he saw that name. "Oh! It's the wine!" Sam pointed at the bottle to the angel's right and Cas passed it over. "Hmmm, corkscrew… Castiel can you stir this for me while I look for one?" The angel nodded and took the wooden spoon from Sam carefully.

Sam crossed the kitchen quickly and opened the drawer where he knew the tool would be. A big grin broke across his face when he retrieved it. "Dean and I got this for Bobby for Father's Day back when we were little." He flashed it at Cas who looked skeptically at the old mermaid shaped corkscrew. Her face was smoothly undefined and her naked breasts were very defined. Her arms were out to her sides as a handle and her scaly tail was curved into the screw.

"Bobby Singer isn't your birth father." The angel said slowly. Sam nodded, pulling the cork out of the bottle with a pop.

"True, but not all family is blood and bones." Sam said it as meaningfully as he could, but he still watched the angel for a reaction out of the corner of his eye. Sam poured the wine into the measuring cup and then into the pot. When Sam was done, Cas gave the spoon back to same and picked up the corkscrew mermaid that was waist deep in cork. Cas inspected it thoughtfully.

"Does Dean understand that this house is a demon nest now?" Cas asked casually. Sam was floored.

"Wha-what?"

"You didn't know?"

"Well, I thought something was going on here but… that can't be, Bobby wouldn't allow it."

"That," the angel motioned at the 'demon potpourri,' "is a very old, very traditional threat to anyone who has any knowledge of demons at the beginning. It says that 'a demon is residing here, leave or face his wrath.' Some of the more powerful demons substantiate the threat by leaving a bit of themselves, but I don't have to test this one to know who it belongs to… " Cas placed the corkscrew like a precious item down next to the basket. "I suspect I don't need to tell you who he is either."

"Crowley."

Cas nodded. "The territory claim isn't dangerous on its own. Demons and other supernatural beings, lower classes of angels included, may respect it out of fear of the 'Demon King.' This isn't a terrible thing since all of the demon seals on the property save two, are broken." The angel and Sam both looked up at the broken seal on the ceiling. "This is actually what I was thinking about when you asked Sam."

"Why didn't you just say something?"

Casitel gave a small uncomfortable sigh, "Based on my experience, the chances of Bobby Singer not realizing that a demon has moved in with him are very low. So I understand that most likely Bobby wants Crowley here, but I also understand that you and Dean both have lost a great deal at the hands of demons… Dean will be angry, maybe needlessly." Castiel looked unsure his lips thinned in a familiar frown. He gestured to the basket, "It's at least a month old. The cohabitation agreement might be succeeding."

They stood in silence. Sam was considering where he should start checking the house for weaknesses when the angel spoke up.

"Besides, this isn't why I'm here." Sam looked at Cas expectantly. The angel suddenly looked tired and worn, like he was remembering something that weighed. "I need to talk to Dean."

/``````

Dean stomped back to the house. He knew Bobby was making excuses not to talk to him. He knew what Bobby was doing with Crowley was dangerous on an existential level. This is not what he had been looking forward to once all of the angel garbage had blown over. Dean was so tired of being so strung out. He let out a harsh sigh as he pushed through the front door.

"Dean."

There stood Castiel staring right at him with his face open and awed. It was breathtaking being looked at like that. Dean felt his heart clench in longing. Did Cas know what that look meant to Dean? To have that expression aimed at him whenever he walked into the room? What it meant to someone who didn't have a single thing to himself? He had to know, he didn't want wait any longer. It wasn't something he could put off until the next crisis was over.

Dean took a deep breath to steel his resolve and strode purposefully to the angel. Cas tilted his head in a question, but Dean saw his opportunity and took it. He caught the side of Cas' face mid tilt with one hand, caught the lapel of the angel's trench coat with the other, squeezed his eyes shut tight and sealed their lips together in a kiss. He pressed greedily into the angel's mouth, feeling all his stress melt away at the touch. A grin spread across his face whole heartedly when he pulled away and saw the tousled angel and his bright pink face. He could feel the angel's hot breath fanning his face as bright endlessly blue eyes stared at him half lidded.

"Da-Dean." Cas' voice gave him pleasant chills. "I-" The angel's eyes fell on the hunter's lips. "I liked that."

Dean pulled smaller man into a tight hug. "Damn it's great to see you Cas." Castiel's face split into a huge happy smile and he drew his arms up around his human.

Sam stared mouth agape while his brother held the beaming angel from the hallway.

/``````


	3. Chapter 3

Author Note: Castiel never got resurrected a second time, so he did not come back with the little boost in Season 6 after Lucy blew him up, which changes his relationship with Raphael somewhat. I'll explain more of what did happen during that encounter as the story goes on. Also, 'Home Coming' is turning out to be more with the drama than I expected. I forgot how with-the-angst team freewill is. I'm going to go with it and see what happens. XO, Llamachick.

Castiel was used to the Winchesters surprising him, particularly Dean.

At this moment he was particularly feeling the species gap between what he knew as an angel and what was uniquely human and completely beyond him. Without conscious thought his host's body lit up with warmth and a complex emotion that he couldn't identify when the hunter pressed their lips together and held him close. He jumped when he felt the warmth lick at his grace pleasantly. It was an electric overwhelming feeling that Castiel didn't have any idea what to do with.

Unable to hold back the raw joy that resulted from the contact, he smiled so hard it hurt. It was so far from the feeling he got when he kissed the demon Meg that he hesitated to even compare the experience.

It could be that Dean was a special case… again.

Rationally he knew a kiss was generally meant to be an affectionate gesture between humans who were bonded in some abstract way, namely love. Castiel had always loved Dean in the only way he knew how, through devotion. He never thought he needed or expected Dean to love him back with human love. He certainly didn't expect Dean would ever physically proclaim such a thing to him.

Now he had the aching suspicion that he was very wrong. This felt like something he needed very badly.

If he extrapolated from his experiences he could say that distantly this feeling reminded him of the wholesomeness of his home in Heaven and the feeling of brushing feathers with his brethren. The comparison brought him crashing down to reality.

Cas mentally stopped that train of thought in it's tracks. Castiel knew better than to expect his understanding to be reality when it came to Dean. Dean seemed to make it his business to defy conventionality. That kiss could have meant anything and Cas didn't have to luxury of exploring this at the moment.

He couldn't keep indulging in selfish and all too _human _desires. He couldn't keep getting distracted; he _had_ to talk to Dean. This was his chance.

A small voice in Castiel's mind whispered in warped consolidation, _it might not matter for much longer anyway_.

Castiel's human heart went cold, and an abrupt sadness swept the warmth he was reveling in, out of his reach. He let his arms fall from the hunter's sides.

"It's good to see you too Dean, but I can't stay."

Dean pulled back like he'd been burned, eyes flitting over the angel's expression. "Why? You just got here. What is it?" he asked, his tone somewhere between rigid and tempered panic.

Cas wanted to ease the fear he saw in the hunter, but was too consumed in his own fear to do anything about it. Besides, that wasn't kind of the news he brought today unfortunately.

"Heaven is in a civil war. Archangel Raphael has taken up the mantel of ruler in heaven and has plans to reverse the failed Apocalypse. I have been elected leader of a rebellion. We will do everything in our power to stop him and his followers. Assuming I survive, it will fall to me to battle and… remove Raphael." The angel recited it dully like a mantra. Like it's all he'd been thinking about for days.

"Fuck, Cas." Dean breathed.

The angel looked startlingly like the soldier Dean met the day he had first walked into Dean's life. Cas stood firmly resigned to his fate, and though the angel hadn't intended it, Dean could see straight through to the tremendous pain this responsibility put on him. The hunter didn't like it one bit.

Castiel's face jerked up towards the ceiling and eyes went distant. Suddenly a tremor rocked his entire body, like he had been struck and he fell forward into Dean who caught him easily.

"Hey now!"

Castiel could feel it like a sword through his gut. He was being urgently hailed by his comrades in Heaven. Something terrible was happening.

The angel blinked rapidly out of the trance. Looking startled, the angel reached a hand out to touch Dean's face but stopped just short and said instead, "I'll try to keep you updated, Dean. I will not allow Raphael to undo all that we did."

Then with the distant sound of flapping wings he was gone.

/``````

One second Dean had his arms full of angel, and the next nothing. He remained staring at the spot where the angel had vanished moments ago vacantly.

Sam stared flabbergasted at older brother, having witnessed the whole exchange just out of earshot. He was apparently still unnoticed. 'What the _hell_?' was all that Sam's above average brain could come up with.

Understanding didn't come.

Sam walked into the living room, over to his brother's side and clasped a hand on his shoulder. Dean jumped and looked at him with wide startled eyes.

"Sam! Jesus! You taking sneaking classes from the angels?"

"Yeah. Okay, _whatever_." Sam tried again, this time out loud, "What the_ hell_ just happened?" Dean flinched away from him

"Be specific."

"Can't we please skip the denial?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Dean growled.

"Like hell you don't!" Sam's bitchface was all it took to push Dean over the edge.

Dean grabbed Sam by the green denim jacket aggressively and Sam immediately grabbed him by the leather coat back. Sam towered over him, which made Dean's gesture seem less threatening. Dean's lips thinned in an angry scowl. "No, I_ don't_ know Sam. Are you talking about me kissing Cas, or the angel-civil-war news flash he just dropped on me, because I'm just about bursting with fucking mysteries right now!"

Sam opened and closed his mouth. How could the fact that his brother just 'outted' himself be the lesser of the news he was receiving today? "What civil war?" Sam frowned, deflating. "Hey! Is Cas in trouble Dean?"

Dean remembered the archangel Raphael, his petulant bitching and his oppressive lightning storm vividly. He seemed like an overpowered toddler to Dean at the time, and since he wasn't one of the angels who wanted to possess him or his brother, Dean put Raphael in the back of his mind. Now the idea of him ruling over Heaven made Dean nauseous and he wished they had tried to take the archangel out when they had him for the interrogation. Maybe they could try something like that again?

What made it worse was knowing that the archangel was by far physically, or for angels he guessed it's 'spiritually', superior to Castiel. In a 'fair' celestial fight Cas was fucked. Cas made it very clear when they went to initially trap Raphael that Cas didn't expect to survive an encounter with him. This motherfucker wasn't one to be trifled with.

"Yes, he's in trouble." Dean released his grip on Sam, realizing that his brother wasn't going to cooperate and be his outlet.

"What can we do to help?"

"I don't know yet."

They stood in silence.

Sam chuckled to himself. "Cas can't catch a break can he? His luck is practically _Winchester_ bad."

Dean shook his head. "I don't know why I thought things would be different. God, I hate not knowing what's going on!"

Sam seemed to consider this for a second, before saying sheepishly, "Well, at least we know two things." Sam straightened out his jacket and brushed imaginary dust off its sleeves. "Crowley is living here with Bobby, and you have a big girly crush on Cas."

Dean stared at Sam for a beat, trying to judge if his brother was messing with him. It reminded Sam strikingly of the look that Cas had been giving him earlier.

Dean finally muttered bitterly, "Fuck-tastic," and stomped away from his idiotically grinning brother.

/``````

It was full night when Crowley made it back to the human world. He appeared suddenly and completely, like he was always there in front of the Bobby's shack.

Crowley closed his eyes and concentrated for a second, spreading his demonic energy to psychically 'map' the land he'd become so familiar with recently. He smiled to himself when he was satisfied that his traps were undisturbed and the perimeter he set on the land hadn't been penetrated by anything he considered a threat.

Things had been going smoothly lately and he knew it didn't bode well. A small irritated sigh slipped his thin lips. _Winchesters…_

Crowley had felt an uncomfortable twinge in his barrier while in Hell when the angel had appeared in the house, but he wasn't at all surprised that the brothers' mascot showed up. The angel was gone now.

He quickly located Dean and Sam in the house, much to his distain, but perked up when he felt Bobby.

'Hmmm, salvage yard' he thought, and then stepped lightly to where he knew the hunter was.

For Crowley, moving from Hell to Earth had become second nature. Something he never expected to be used to. His powers were evolving daily since he tied himself to the souls of Hell and he had mixed feelings about it.

On one hand, some days he'd discover a new ability that he had no idea existed. The power was highly stimulating and usually useful. On the other hand, there wasn't a single demon who didn't desire what he had. The hyper vigilance was exhausting. At times he wished he had taken that vacation to all points nowhere when Lilth had vanished, but moments like this made sticking his neck out worth the risk.

Crowley felt the tension bleed out of him when the hunter was in his sight. The demon watched from a short distance as Robert Singer was bent at the waist over the now hoodless Impala, inspecting the damage critically. Crowley tilted his head slightly, appreciating the view of the hunter's ass. Bobby sighed and pushed away from the car, the lights that were strung up throughout the yard shown a face marked with sweat and negligent grease. The hunter took a swing of whisky straight from a cheap dirty bottle.

"Crowley, quit yer lurking and get over here."

Bobby's acuity never ceased to amaze him. "Hello there Darling," he said smoothly slipping out of the darkness. "Did you miss me?" Crowley slid up next to the hunter, feeling stupidly content to be there. Bobby passed the bottle off to Crowley, who looked at it despairingly, pulled a blue tarp, and started scotch taping it down to act as a substitute hood overnight.

Bobby scoffed, "Why would I? You already gave me my soul back."

"Don't you know how to make a girl feel special." The demon held the bottle away from his body like it was filled with holy water. For all he knew, it could be spiked. They kept their liquor separate for several reasons. "I should have known not to give it up so easily."

Bobby didn't make him wait long. Once the car was sufficiently covered, he walked back around the car and pulled the whiskey out of the demon's hand. He gave Crowley a thoughtful once over.

Tailored black suit, silk red tie, a long wool overcoat, polished expensive shoes; the demon always looked like he had no business in a place like this backwater town. Maybe he'd make more sense in the New York business scene, or in the Chicago Mafia. He seemed to be comfortable in the heavy clothes despite the heat of the summer night. Crowley seemed to be at ease wherever he was. Bobby guessed that was a luxury that the King of Hell would have.

Crowley was giving him a small affectionate smile. It was hard to believe that the demon was in fact a demon, sometimes. He walked and talked and went down if shot with rock salt like a demon, but at the same time he seemed to have a warmth in him that was rare even amongst humans. The old hunter wasn't dumb enough not to know better, but all the same the demon had earned his trust.

Bobby reached out to him suddenly causing the demon to jump; careful green eyes followed the hunter's movements. Bobby slowly traced the demon's jaw line on the right side of his face with the thumb of his empty hand. He liked the feel of the warm clean shaven skin. It had been so long since he had someone close to him who he didn't have to worry about up and dying. Crowley seemed like he enjoyed his touch too.

He accidentally marked the demon with a line of black oil residue. Bobby smiled inwardly and thought Crowley looked better that way.

"How'd it go?" Bobby let his hand fall away.

"Swimmingly," Crowley said dryly. The demon pulled a cleanly pressed black kerchief out of his coat pocket, shook it out and offered to Bobby. "She'll be fine. I can see now that the Winchesters are going to need some time to warm up to their new stepsiblings." The hunter took it and at his confused look Crowley offered, "You're dirty luv." The demon made a circular motion indicating the face area with his index finger.

"Getting dragged to hell would make anyone a little touchy." Bobby said evenly. He pulled his cap off and wiped his sweat away absently. "It wouldn't have happened if yer hounds hadn't been hunting the boys to begin with."

"Oh please. If my pups had been looking to kill them, they would have. I didn't raise 'em to play with their food."

Bobby grunted and then noticed that the demon was staring at his lackluster job disapprovingly. "What? It's a cloth, not a shower."

"Why…" Crowley moved into the hunter's space. Bobby could smell the faint aftershave on the other man. "Are you always dirty?"

"It's a normal human thing. We aren't all meant dress our candy asses in Armani."

Crowley tsked, "It's a lifestyle thing."

The old hunter casually let his free hand find the demon's hip over his coat. "Do you have a problem with my lifestyle, demon?" Bobby asked softly.

"Not at all," The demon in question leaned closer, a small impish grin playing on his lips. "It's charming in a virile, red blooded way. So long as I am not competing with grime and Winchesters for my place in your," Crowley was a mere inch away from the kiss he was tempting, "lifestyle."

The other shoe had to drop. Bobby put a little space between them, and then said seriously, "The boys are my family, Crowley. They come first. I haven't even figured out how to explain to them whatever this is."

Crowley's face fell. "Do you need a class ring to be my steady? There is no need to make this complicated."

"Be realistic. It was always going to be complicated by what you are."

Crowley pulled away genuinely offended. For all his efforts, this was going to come down to _racism_? "_I _am not responsible for all the wrongs that befell them by the hands of Lucifer's _slaves. I _have been nothing short of a saint among demons. Those _angels_ are the ones-"

Bobby firmly tugged at Crowley's waist, leant in and claimed the demon's mouth. Crowley made some undignified protesting noises into the kiss, but calmed slightly when the hunter squeezed him apologetically. Bobby deepened the kiss and tasted the wine, cigarettes and a rich vanilla aftershave of the other man.

Crowley clasped the hunter's biceps, anchoring himself. _Damn, _the demon loved being kissed out of affection. He was sick for it. When the hunter pulled away he felt warm and wanted again.

"God help me, I believe you." The hunter said on an exhale. "Just give it some time. We have never not been betrayed."

Bobby held his breath and they stood there, leering at each other. Crowley was deciding if he was going to let himself be manipulated.

"That," Crowley made a vague circular motion to indicate what just happened, "is not always going to work on me."

Quid pro quo, Bobby's laugh was worth it.

/``````


	4. Chapter 4

A companionable silence fell over the brothers as they painted angel wards and touched up the demon traps all over Bobby's house. Sam wasn't totally sure this was a good idea, but Dean insisted Bobby had missed his chance to do this the easy way. Essentially they were hanging a 'humans only' sign on the door. This shouldn't feel as normal place as it did.

Sam brandished his brush at Enochian sigil he just painted. "So we are going to talk about you and Cas, right?"

"Absolutely not."

Sam ignored him and started painting again. "I mean, it makes sense. Boy meets angel, angel stalks boy, boy doesn't tell his brother but secretly crushes on angel," Sam gave his brother a long suffering look, "… boy kisses angel…"

"Let it go, Sam." Dean bit out. He was standing on the island in the kitchen, stretching to reach the imperfection in the broken circle.

"Come on! How long has this been going on Dean? Cas is great and everything, but isn't he kind of the wrong gender?"

Dean swished the brush with the tips of his fingers, catching the break and grinned victoriously. He jumped off the table gracefully, and then said matter-of-factly, "Cas is an _angel._ Angel's are genderless."

"Oh my mistake; he's just the wrong _species_."

"Alright, Sam I'm gonna level with you." Sam looked up from his position on the floor in surprise. Dean was looking at him very seriously. Sam stood slowly so as not to spook his brother out of his sudden willingness to open up to him.

"Okay-"

"No, let me finish." Dean kept his intense eye contact. "Sam…" Dean clasped a hand on his brother's shoulder making him jump. "I didn't know how to tell you, but it's true… you do look exactly like 'Dean' from 'Gilmore Girls'."

"You are a humongous dick, you know that right?" Sam said irritated.

"At least I don't have affairs, like some people. Things were never going to work with Rory, you should have stayed with Lindsey." Dean gave him a brisk sympathetic pat and an over the top mock sweet smile. His face fell back into annoyance a second later, and then he pushed past his younger brother and marched to the Library.

"Nice deflecting Dean. Why do you know so much about 'Gilmore Girls'?" Sam yelled after him.

There was a crash at the side entrance that had Dean doubling back to where his brother was, gun already drawn. Sam grabbed his shot gun off the window ceil. They had their ears strained.

"Boys," Bobby called grimly. "We need to talk."

A wicked grin flashed across Dean's face. "I bet you we caught ourselves a demon."

/``````

"I see they learned hospitality from you," Crowley drawled, standing powerless in the Singer House, yet again. The demon bit back the thrill of fear at that familiar feeling of nothingness in the place of power at his finger tips. Crowley flexed his hands anxiously.

"Shut it, Crowley." Bobby said angrily, and Crowley did. The hunter grabbed a thin sharp knife that was hidden on the doorframe. Bobby blew out a sigh as he bent down to cut open the still wetly painted seal on the floor. He did not appreciate being forced into a confrontation he wasn't prepared for. But clearly, since the boys were using paint to deface his house instead of chalk, they were taking their stand now.

"Why hello Bobby, want to talk now?" Dean strutted in, bravado filling the room, "Oh, Crowley. I didn't see you there." He had.

Sam followed behind his brother, regret coloring his features at the look on Bobby's face, but he stood firmly by Dean.

"We have to know what's going on." Sam offered sheepishly.

"And this is how you go about talking to me? I deserve a little more than the damned fifth degree."

"Our communication skills are retarded by the death of our mother as children," Dean shot sarcastically, "and subsequent demon hunting through our developing years, so forgive us, please."

"Clearly something is going on here. Please tell us." Sam pleaded.

A heavy silence fell as the hunters stared at each other heatedly.

Crowley rolled his eyes.

"The dirty secret is: we're fucking." Clowley said eloquently, draping an arm around the tensed old hunter at his side. "Robert is embarrassed. There are dozens of reasons for him to be, pick your favorite. It doesn't matter. I have nothing but my considerable skill in the sack tying him to me."

The old hunter looked at him scandalized, but Crowley wasn't done. "Now I'll give you a second to ruminate on that mental image."

The boys looked to Bobby for denial, but all he could give them was a splotchy flush across his cheeks and a fish out of water expression that to them, confirmed everything. The Winchester's faces contorted to look like they were sucking on lemons.

"There it is." Crowley plastered a big fake grin on his face. "Next time you'll mind your own business, won't you?"

"God, _why_ Bobby? What is wrong with this family? How am I the only one not to bring a monster home to fuck instead of kill? Are humans just not good enough?"

Sam looked at Dean, jaw slack in shock like he'd just slapped him. "Like you have space to talk! What about you and Cas?"

"Angels aren't the same as demons Sam!"

The brothers turned on each other.

"Oh, so we've been painting these sigils to invite the angels over, because they're so damn harmless?"

"Cas isn't like them. It's not the same at all!" Dean stomped forward, face flustered red. "I'm not _fucking_ Cas!"

"God, no stop! Not enough brain bleach in the Universe. This is already _way_ too much." Sam made surrendering motions with his arms.

"Id- Idijits!" Bobby found his voice finally and pulled away from Crowley, "Shut up the both of you!" Sam and Dean fell silent. "I don't know what's gotten into you two." He looked at them bewildered. "I thought I had two grown men here, but clearly I have two teenage girls who need me to hold their hands while I explain that things don't always go the way you'd think. Boo-hoo. Your surrogate father is dating a demon. Get over it. I'm going to say this one time, so listen up, you morons. My adult _relationship_ with Crowley is none of your goddamn business! All you need to know is that you will be respecting me or you will be getting your asses off my property."

The hunters stood staring at each other.

"'_Relationship_?'" Dean repeated back at Bobby in disbelief.

Sam's eyes slid to the forgotten demon and caught Crowley staring unguardedly at Bobby. Sam saw respect there. Suddenly Sam remembered Bobby standing in the kitchen holding the recipe in his hand, smiling.

Understanding dawned on Sam's face and he suddenly lifted his hand to point at Bobby accusingly. "Oh, God. You... you have feelings for him." Sam licked his lips, his throat gone dry. "This isn't about sex."

All of the remaining color drained from Dean's and Bobby's faces.

Sam jumped away from all three of them and then pointed at Dean instead. "And you too-"

"Oh, no. Don't you dare lump me with this demon/human lovefest!"

"You're both gay for them. Okay. It's okay; I'm in a gay alternate universe or having a stroke aren't I?" Then something terrible occurred to him. "Oh my God, I'm in the pit aren't I?"

"No, Sam I…" Dean started in horror, looking nauseous.

Bitchface, "Then what? If I didn't know that Gabriel was dead, I would be looking for candy wrappers!"

"I don't know-"

"Oh for the love of-, _shut up_!" Crowley snapped. "As much fun as standing around here being ignored as you three figure out your sexuality has been, I want out. Kill me or let me go, because I cannot handle any more family time."

Attention was pulled back to the demon. All three hunters' expressions held some degree of exhaustion and fear, but not of him. Bobby's frown pulled at something in his chest.

Dean moved wordlessly, pulled a machete out of his belt and cut a line in the demon circle. Crowley felt a warm chill climb his spine, which indicated he was free. He walked backwards towards the door he'd come through but stopped short.

Crowley took a deep breath and pulled back from his frustration. He cleared his throat and changed his tactics. "Look, how about I finish dinner, you all can consume something besides alcohol as sustenance, _then_ I'll leave, you all can sleep, and resume yelling at each other tomorrow? Frankly, you all look like hell."

A weak amused smile found Sam's lips, "The pizza?"

The demon looked at him in mild surprise and nodded.

"I finished making it. It's cooling in the kitchen."

Crowley hesitantly stepped back into the circle and up to the elder hunter. The demon lightly placed his hand over the hunter's coat sensing the gentle motion of Bobby's heart underneath and looked him. "Give it a chance." He said softly, green eyes flicking to his hand, "I won't have you going any sooner than you have to."

"Fine." Crowley was gone.

Author Note: I wrote this despite having a huge project due at the end of the week, because the reviews I got were so super amazing. You are my muse. Thank you.


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